My Day At The Ministry: Severus Snape,
by Faith Accompli.

Disclaimer: Most characters Rowlings'. Boyd and Bloodmane mine. Plot mine.
Severus frowned down into his tea with a gaze more terrifying than that which he turned on Neville during Potions all too often for the boy and the state of his oft-wet pants. Of all the things, Cornelius Fudge was off sick for the day, and Dumbledore had drafted him as a replacement, claiming he had too much to do preparing for the new school year. As if Severus wasn't busy too, trying to order enough replacement cauldrons that the Longbottom boy wouldn't systematically work his way through his own, then those of his friends, then the school's, then the world's...

He hated Fudge. Hated Dumbledore too at that moment. Hated the chirrupy young blonde bit of fluff witch that Fudge had hired as a secretary, that had dared to bring him tea and tell him to 'turn his frown upside down'. Closing the door behind her and blissfully ignoring the flirtatious wiggle of her rear under robes that wouldn't have been long enough for a nine year old child, Severus slumped back against the hard panelled wood and took a swig of his tea.

The tea was promptly expelled again, as the milk in it had gone rancid with alarming speed. He mopped at the spots that marred his black robes with an embroidered wall-hanging that was quite probably expensive, and fed the rest of his drink to a sickly-looking fern on the bookshelf. "I had almost forgotten why I drink tea only with lemon. Let that be a lesson to me." Dropping the delicate china cup and saucer into the wastepaper basket, Snape crossed the room to Fudge's desk, sitting in the swivel-chair with only a little difficulty. Stupid Muggle chairs. He had never found a problem with good, solid wizarding chairs. Four legs, for Merlin's sake. If it wasn't broken, why did they insist on 'fixing' it? Idiots.

Rummaging through the scattered papers over the desk, Snape finally came to the one item that seemed to have some sort of order to it. A small notepad not unlike a shopping list;

From the Beautiful Mind of Cornelius Fudge,

To Do:

Meet with Muggle ministry rep. to explain Black's innocence. Send Dumbledore thank-you note for bringing this unavoidably to mind. Crush new Goblin Rebellion in Essex. (CDDC)
Deny Voldemort's return.
Deny Voldemort's return.
Deny Voldemort's return.
Have Voldemort Killed.

Severus snorted in mild disgust, then amended to the list 'Apply new law stating that those who destroy their cauldrons while at school are still obligated to pay for repairs and/or replacements, despite What Their Grandmothers Say. More than five destroyed cauldrons will result in the expulsion of said student.' but stopped there and put the list down before he gave in to the urge to add 'This means YOU, Longbottom!'

'Clear Black's name with the Muggles? Sod that,' Severus decided, moving on to the next item.

'Crush Goblin Rebellion in Essex.' That held possibilities. He returned to the door, opening it quietly and glancing through for someone-anyone-who wasn't cheerful, blonde and deserving of an unforgivable curse. A girl who looked barely graduated from school-hmm. Brown hair, glasses, grey eyes beneath them, pale lipstick-he recognised her. Ravenclaw, graduated last year. She would do. What the hell was her name, though? Ah, yes.


The girl looked around, startled out of her paperwork.

"Over here, Boyd! Shannon, isn't it?"

She picked up the handful of papers she had been working with and scuttled over quickly, confusion writ large in her eyes. "Professor, sir, what are you doing here?"

"Suffering unspeakable torment at the hands of Daisy-Belle the secretary of Fudge. Help me."


Barely waiting for her agreement, Severus yanked the girl into Fudge's... his for the "You're a Ravenclaw, so fairly intelligent...tell me what exactly this cause of Goblin Rebellion is."

She gazed off to the right slightly, looking at some point above his head. "Bloodmane, the chief of their clan, says that the humans have encroached on their mining grounds, and want them off. The humans refuse to go, and they accidentally or not so accidentally crushed two of his best workers when they were sinking a mineshaft. The Muggles only recently discovered gold deposits and Bloodmane's people have been working the area for over fifteen years. They've killed one Muggle so far who went in armed with a gun, and say they'll do the same to any more who follow. Many of us in the lower levels of the Ministry sympathise with the Goblins, as they do hold the land deeds from as far back as sixteen-twenty-two, but Fudge was talking of sending in the CDDC to wipe out the two families currently working there." She paused, refocused her eyes on him, and added "Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"Fudge is a blithering idiot." Severus muttered in an undertone. "Can you get Bloodmane to come to a fire and talk? Also, send...say...ten Obliviators to the site, have them make the Muggles forget there was ever gold in Essex. Make sure they destroy any documents pertaining to the matter. The last thing we need is another fight with the Goblins while we have Voldemort breathing down our necks."

"I'll need authorisation."

Severus nodded, grabbing at a piece of parchment and a Muggle pen on the end of Fudge's desk, and scribbled hastily. 'I, Severus Snape, acting Minister of Magic order you all to do whatever Shannon Boyd tells you. She is acting with my express permission to carry out the tasks I want done. Disobey and I will poison you.'

She took the parchment with a look at it and a nod, hurrying off to follow out his orders. He hoped. Didn't expect, but hoped.

Ravenclaws were good, weren't they? All studious and clever. If she was clever, she'd be back in no time, all finished.

So he would sit. And draw on Fudge's list. And write 'Was not in denial of Voldemort's return to begin with' beneath Fudge's 'Deny...'s.

Which left him at 'Have Voldemort Killed.' If he wanted anything like that to succeed, he'd either have to throw a small child at the Dark Lord, or do it himself.

The irritating blonde returned with feather-duster in hand, and started to flit about the room as if he wasn't there.

"Do you have any ch..." he started to ask, before shaking his head. She probably couldn't tie her own, Velcro. A Lily-esque sacrifice from her was right out, then. Plan two it was. "Go away. Now."

"Oh, don't worry, I won't be in your way at all." Daisy-Belle sauntered around the desk to swipe ineffectually at the litter atop it, incidentally rubbing against his arm with her oversized cow-like badly-upholstered arse. "Minister Fudge doesn't mind it, he said..."

'It feels like burning...' Severus rose, eyes almost glowing in rage as he clutched his arm closer to his chest, away from the secretary. "You are an insufferably stupid bitch-not witch, bitch! I am not Minister Fudge, and you will stay out of this room until such time as Minister Snape is released to go home and tend the mental wounds he has acquired at this hellish pit!"

"But he said-"

Grasping her by the hair and propelling her out the door with a kick to the bum for good measure, Severus slammed the door hard.

He was interrupted again just a few minutes later, while drawing moustaches and goatees on pictures of Fudge meeting with foreign Ministers and other Important People, by a quiet knock and the door being pushed open gently. "Professor Snape, sir? Obliviators sent. Bloodmane is going to a fire now, I'll make the connection in here, and..." Shannon Boyd proffered a mug of something hot, steaming and blissfully free of milk, but scented of lemon. "You must be getting thirsty by now. Daisy-Belle can't make tea for shit, to be honest, and I saw her bringing you some earlier."

"Boyd, you're a wonderful woman. If you were still attending school I would have to break my own rule and actually award points to a house not my own, instead of merely deducting." Severus took the mug from her and downed a mouthful hurriedly, luxuriating in the warmth before he dragged his mind back to the tedium that was being Minister for the day.

Shannon just laughed to herself as she lit the fire with a flick of her wand at the ready-stacked wood, saying something in a language he couldn't understand after the flames burned bright and stepping back with a gesture indicating it was all his. "Bah, you know well enough that you've given Ravenclaw almost a hundred and fifty points in the last ten years. Sure, it was probably to bugger Gryffindor, but we still got 'em."

Severus cracked a tiny smile but didn't reply otherwise, dragging the chair in front of the desk over two paces to sit before the fire on it. A wizened head peered back out at him almost immediately, tiny spectacles on his long and pointed nose that he adjusted with a flicker of surprise that only showed in his magnified eyes. He tugged at his beard thoughtfully, curling red hair about one long finger before he spoke. "Ye're not Fudge, then."

"Quite. My name is Snape. Fudge's unwell, I have been forced to serve in his capacity for the day." Severus leaned forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. "I've been informed of the basics in what Fudge calls this 'rebellion' of yours-"

"Is'nae a rebellion! We're just getting rid of a few humans who're doing what they ought not!" The goblin was making fierce gestures now, saying something in the same language as Shannon had used just before.

"He says 'Fudge be a giant purple arsewit', sir," Shannon translated from where she stood against the wall.

"You have the sympathies of many here at the Ministry, Fudge and his lapdogs not included. I've had my assistant send Obliviators to make the Muggles forget everything about your mining grounds and destroy any paperwork they may have on it. After they're done I'll detach someone capable of putting suitable Muggle-Repelling charms around the area."

"An' what's innit for ye, Wizard?"

"The sadistic pleasure of ruining Fudge's plans and doing things my way, although I would never say no to a small cut of the profits from the mine if you were so obliged."

"Aye," Bloodmane looked down for a moment, and there was the faint sound of quill-scratchings before he gazed up again. "Ye've a deal, then. Yer Obliviators've just arrived, t'boot. Ta, Minister Snape."

The fire winked out and Bloodmane's image was gone, leaving Snape with one item left to finish before he could call it a day and Apparate back to Hogsmeade for many, many drinks and a drunken stagger to the castle.

Kill Voldemort. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Boyd, track down Macnair and send him in to see me, would you?" Snape collected an armful of Fudge's papers and threw them into the dead fire, sitting on the cleared space. "As soon as possible."

"Sure." She left him in peace again, alone to commune with his still-hot tea, closing the door quietly behind herself.

"Snape," The surly undertone belied the attempted pleasant look on Macnair's face as he shut the door with a bang. "What are you doing here?"

"Working to further my master's goals, as you so obviously aren't. Really, Walden, killing harmless animals may pay the bills, but you're not really advancing Lord Voldemort's plans, are you? Never mind," Severus smiled sadistically, waving for Macnair to sit. "Fudge has been...taken ill, and I was called upon to take his place for the day. Not being one to refuse a gift Hippogriff, I'm making the most of my opportunities. I can't just slip away to alert my Lord to this, but I'm able to set all in place for him to take."

"Stop speaking in riddles, you treacherous bastard. What are you on about?" Macnair sat heavily in the chair offered, glowering at Severus ridiculously.

"Inside these walls are trapped some of the most powerful witches and wizards against us, you fool. If I were to stupefy all those on this floor, don't you think Lord Voldemort would love to walk in and kill them? Kill them all?"

Macnair's expression turned cunning. "Why don't you just kill them, if you're so smart?"

"My Lord has some dislike against many of them, even a hatred. You should know he would prefer to mete out justice for himself. I'm sure he would be willing to leave some of them for us, but I have no desire to pick and choose myself when I couldn't possibly aspire to know My Lord's mental workings. Shall we set a time for him to arrive, once you have alerted him to this opportunity?"

"...right..." Macnair looked simply confused now, and Severus worked hard to keep the smirk from his face. This was easier than he'd anticipated, although the real show was yet to come.

"I'll have them stunned stupid at...hmm. One?" Severus suggested thoughtfully. "My Lord will have to Apparate just outside the room, as Fudge has anti-Apparation wards guarding merely this inner sanctum. The moment he arrives I will be more than willing to hand over the reins of power to him. Even you must see it would be a pretty coup d'etat that would destroy a good half of any paltry resistance the Muggle-loving scum could put together. Break their highest power structure first and the rest will swiftly follow."

"Right...I'll...go tell our Lord then," Macnair got up after watching Severus carefully for a minute more, trying to detect treachery.

"Remember, Walden, when the big hand touches the twelve and the little hand touches the one...better make it five past one, I'm not entirely sure you can count past ten with your shoes on."

Macnair snarled as he left again, slamming the door almost as hard as Severus had after throwing Daisy-Belle out.

"No rest for the wicked," Severus commented cheerfully to Shannon as he wiped the doorknob with a blue-stained cloth, careful to avoid touching it with his bare skin.

"Do I want to know what you're doing, sir?" Shannon inquired, shifting over a little as he did to hide Snape's activities from the rest of the Ministry dogsbodies that were either clustered about Daisy-Belle's still-weeping prostrate form or going about their work with earmuffs in various colours affixed firmly to their heads.

"Probably not, but do avoid touching the metalwork," He glanced at the ridiculously-carved clock atop Minister Fudge's bookshelf. It was almost a quarter to one, and Macnair hadn't returned saying Voldemort refused, so...full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes. "Get inside, would you?" Severus held the door open for her, drawing it mostly closed again with his fingertips on the wood. "Pour some wine while you're at it. Fudge has glasses and a bottle of red in the bottom drawer. Two, and set them on the desk. Then...stay back."

Waiting until he heard her rummaging in the bottom drawer for the liquid refreshments he was going to offer Voldemort, he drew his wand from the inside of his robes and pointed it at the Ministry employees who were still working first, hissing 'Stupefy' under his breath. Twelve fell, and he whispered again. Four. Again. The eight trying to convince Daisy-Belle to continue living fell, some of them drooling with the force of the curse he'd sent their way. Once more to knock the cow unconscious. He retreated back to Fudge's office, closing the door firmly and walking to the leather chair before the desk, wiping the armrests with the same cloth. Shannon shot him a look that distinctly reeked of 'what the hell is going on?' but stayed back beside the bookcase, watching as he poured more blue liquid from the vial onto the cloth, then swabbed the outside of the silver goblets, checking to ensure the substance dried streak-free.

Severus took another vial with a clear liquid inside, pouring a decent helping into each glass of wine, remarking for his silent audience, "Yes, it is tasteless, odourless and without residue."


Last of all he tugged one more vial free, this one less than half-full of a pale gold liquid. He swallowed almost half of it, recapping it and throwing it to the bespectacled girl who caught it easily. "Drink it now and dispose of the bottle."

She obeyed without comment, the Obey The Teacher instincts of her last seven years still firmly engrained in her mind, no matter how much or little she obeyed her usual superiors at the Ministry, and dropped the bottle into the message chute near her on the wall. "Now, sir?"

"Now we wait, and you be silent. Try to act mind-controlled if you can."


They had only three minutes to wait, Voldemort deciding that punctuality was for the weak and Apparating right outside his door with a loud crash and bang...although that might have simply been Macnair's less than brilliant Apparating skills combined with his astonishing talent for walking into walls. Shannon flinched but didn't make a sound, pressing back into the wall a little more.

Lord Voldemort flung the door open with an imperious hand, striding in as a king newly restored to his throne, and bared the slightest curl of lip that could have been interpreted as a smile to Snape, who knelt before him with every show of humility.

"My Lord, the Ministry is yours," He managed, voice far softer than any could or would remember, save for Voldemort.

"My disloyal servant comes back to the fold finally with such a fitting gift." Voldemort decreed, patting Severus on the head with one hand while the other inched backward to scratch an unmentionable place.

"Never disloyal, my Lord. I told you...Lucius knows...I was never disloyal, I only had to cover...spying on Dumbledore for you..." Voldemort shook his head magnanimously, making a hand-motion for Severus to rise. "You are forgiven."

Although it almost stuck in his throat, now, when he was this close, long practice enabled him to bow, muttering that his lord was gracious, his lord was wise, and all other such rubbish he could think of that would please or placate Voldemort. "And, my Lord, I have refreshments... you were incorporeal for so long, I know you enjoyed the finest things in life..."

Voldemort swept past him, taking the soft leather seat with a sneer for the Muggle-style swivelling chair that Snape took, leaving Macnair standing stupidly by the door. A soft gasp, almost indistinguishable amongst the other sounds, drew Voldemort's attention to the girl against the wall. He pushed his chair back a little, pale hands flat to the armrests of his carefully-prepared chair. "What, Severus, keeping one for yourself?"

"She's...most accommodating, my Lord, and would make a suitable assistant in my potions room."

"Accommodating, huh?" Macnair sneered sideways. "Not as much as Fudge's little flower out in the hall, but if you say she is...mind if I have a try?"

"Actually, I do," Severus frowned a little, casting dark eyes towards Voldemort for support. "Macnair would break her, clumsy oaf that he is. I would prefer her with mind and limbs intact, she was one of the better students I taught. More aptitude than many."

"You and your potions, Severus. I trust you will get to work on the refined Mudblood-poison say...tonight...if I allow you to keep her?"

Shannon's eyes were looking more and more disgusted as the conversation progressed, despite her ability to control her expression, and her nails dug into her clasped hands causing a mottled white and red to appear under light tan.

"Of course, my Lord. Anything you desire," Severus moved to pick up his wine glass, but a commanding gesture from Voldemort stopped him.

"I would like...that glass, Severus."

"My Lord." Severus picked up the glass by the delicate fluted silver stem, hands perfectly steady as he set it before Voldemort. "As you wish."


Severus shrugged, lifted the drink Voldemort refused, and tossed down half the contents without a second thought before replacing it on the table.

"Hmm." Voldemort's elongated fingers wrapped about the cup of his goblet, bringing it to his mouth slowly. "Severus?"

"My Lord?"

"Nothing." Voldemort took a tiny sip, his nostrils flaring wider still as he decided it was safe, and then a long swallow. "This is...not bad."

"Fudge's private store."

"How...ironic." Voldemort snickered, then laughed. Uncontrollable snickering followed, as the goblet fell from his loosened grip. He started sliding sideways, a coughing fit wracking his thin frame as he hit the floor, gasping and choking. ""

"Sorry, My Lord. We drank the last of it." Severus finally let a grin reach his face as he got to his feet gracefully, a skip almost in his step as he walked around to the collapsed Voldemort, crouching just out of reach after removing Voldemort's wand from his pocket. "Perhaps your little stunt with Potter at the end of last year wasn't the wisest you could have made. You made yourself vulnerable."

"You...were mine...betrayer..."

Severus looked positively giddy at the Dark Lord's words. "I was a Slytherin. It's our nature to bite the hand that feeds us."

"Die..." Voldemort's last word was almost prophetic for himself, exhaled on his last breath as the red light faded from his eyes.

"Maybe in a hundred and fifty years. See you in hell, Tom."

Severus straightened, only to duck back quickly when he heard Shannon Boyd's cry of "Oh, crap!" and saw a grotesquely ugly metal...something...come flying out of the air from her direction, straight at Macnair's head as he belatedly dove at Severus, screaming something about vengeance.

The metal object hit Macnair squarely in the temple, felling him like a tranquilized elephant, to crush Voldemort's corpse.

"Appreciated, Boyd. Were you ever on the Quidditch team?"

"No, sir." She came out of her corner, studying the unconscious man and the dead man curiously.

"Shame. Xiomara would have loved you for a beater on her old house team," Severus dusted his hands off on his robes, which had seen far better days by now, even in any Potions class that Longbottom wasn't in.

"Too dangerous for me, Professor," Shannon admitted, wiping her brow on her sleeve. "You made me drink that stuff in case he tried to force the wine on me as a tester?"

"Of course. Phoenix tears and mandrake root," Severus continued watching the deceased and the fallen for a moment, then grabbed Shannon's hands in a fit of absolute glee, spinning her around and around before kissing her. "Thank you. You've been most instrumental in what has been accomplished today. Two hundred points to Ravenclaw!"

Shannon blinked, raising a hand to press the back of it to Severus' forehead. "You're not well, sir."

"On the contrary, I've never been better." He kissed her again, then released her to see her back away a good three paces. "Insanity isn't transmittable through saliva, silly Ravenclaw. But be a darling and take Voldemort's corpse to a safe holding place? ...a safe, yes...maybe I'll have him transferred to Gringotts tonight..."

"Er...right." Shannon pulled her wand out, levitating the mortal remains of Voldemort out from under Macnair, and leaving as quickly as she could, glancing back at him every step with worry in her eyes.

"Not well, she tells me." Severus chuckled, kicking Macnair in the head cheerfully. "Not well. Never mind, I'd better wake the floor. Not you, though. You can stay."

He skipped to the open door, kicking one of Fudge's books over to wedge it open until someone could clean the door handle, and started waving his wand with the command of "Ennervate!" until everyone but the blonde fluffbrain was conscious again. "Everyone, get to work. I've just killed Voldemort, and I need someone to clean the contact poison off the doorknob...and the glasses in Fudge's office. Everyone who's not going to clean, tell the world that a Slytherin killed Voldemort-and I have no interest in taking his place as Das Uberlord von der Unterhosen."

A black-haired man ran off, presumably to do one or the other, and Severus turned to slap a stunning spell on Macnair just in case before levitating him up and out of Fudge's office. "While you're at it, someone get this arsewit shipped off somewhere secure. Probably not Azkaban, unless it's been restaffed with Wizards instead of Dementors. I think that's all. I'll just be in there finishing up a little bit of paperwork." He dropped Macnair on the hard wooden floor, ignoring the splintering sounds from the floorboards, and skipped back to Fudge's chair, clicking his heels in the air once for good measure.

After drawing a labelled stick-figure picture (Honourary Slytherin-Ravenclaw Boyd; Kicker of Dark Lord Arse Snape; Dipshit Macnair; Dead Motherfucker Voldemort; Ugly Metal Statue) in the remainder of Fudge's list, of himself standing over a dead Voldemort and Boyd braining Macnair with the ugly metal statue, Snape crossed the last task off the list, rummaging in Fudge's other drawers for a form he was sure he'd seen in his exploring, inamongst the backdated newspapers, wrinkled copies of Playwizard that he pushed aside with a pencil, and the stash of brandy hidden even better than the wine.


Transfer of Personnel Within the Ministry.

He had filled out almost all the fields he could without input from other sources when Shannon returned, peering cautiously in. "Voldemort's in stasis-spell in one of the holding cells now, sir."

"Ah, excellent. Come in, come in. Don't have a seat, they're poison." Snape waved for her to enter. "Now. As the one person who I've seen displaying any amount of competence in the entire department, tell me. What job do you really desire?"

Shannon blinked, but answered quickly. "Department of Mysteries researcher, sir."

"Tremendous, that's tremendous." Severus wrote quickly in the 'Transfer-to' field; "Department of Mysteries Senior Researcher" and added a note for extra funding before handing the sheet over to her. "Drop this in with the paperwork people and make them do it now. I'm off to shower and hit the Three Broomsticks for an intoxicating amount of glorious unpoisoned alcohol. Feel free to drop by if you're curious." Without another word, he disappeared.


Shannon turned her form over to the prissy-looking redhead man who'd recently transferred over from... what was it, DIMC? Something like that, he looked ineffectual enough, and his stint as Head Boy had been less memorable than he'd probably hoped, but he could damn well hurry her paperwork through, getting her into the Department of Mysteries quick bloody smart as well as actioning the new law about cauldron misusage at school that she'd pushed through for the best minister they'd ever had.

After all, she was curious. Damn the Ravenclaw thirst for knowledge.